Shattered and Freed
by MTGirlForever
Summary: They may have stopped working for SHIELD, but that didn't mean the Avengers were done saving the world. Bruce Banner discovers something sinister that Captain America and Hawkeye in particular aren't going to like...but the team is the only one who can stop it - provided they can survive. Team-fic, but with a focus on Steve and Clint.
1. Reopened Wounds

It was movie night in the Avenger's Tower and the team was just finishing watching re-runs of the A-Team. Steve was sprawled out across an arm chair, Natasha sat on the couch with Clint's head in her lap, Thor lay on his stomach with his chin propped on his elbows, and Tony lounged in a recliner. No one seemed to notice that Bruce sat in the furthest chair, absorbed in his tablet and unaware of the happenings around him. As the show concluded, Tony promptly decreed that they were the new A-Team and summarily compared each of them to the characters from the old TV show.

After a round of laughter, Steve stretched and declared it was time for a cup of hot chocolate and bed. The others agreed and after a few minutes of rather raucous good nights, the Avengers headed off to their individual floors.

Steve had just settled down at the table in the apartment he shared with Clint when he heard a knock on the door. A little surprised, for everyone else had seemed tired as well after a long day, he hurried to answer it. He expected to find Thor standing on the other side, for, despite the fact that he had his own apartment, the Asgardian had bonded with the soldier and archer and spent a great deal of time with them. Steve was more than a little surprised to find Bruce Banner standing there. The scientist shifted his weight awkwardly, and Steve noticed he clutched one of Tony's tablets in a near-death grip. "Umm...may I speak to you for a few minutes?"

Steve swung the door wide. "Of course! Come'n in. Can I get you anything?" He hadn't had much opportunity to get to know the other man, as he was a bit of a recluse, but he found himself drawn to the other's quiet politeness that was a reflection of himself.

"No, no, I'm fine, thanks."

Bruce still seemed rather awkward, so Steve gestured toward the nearest couch. "Sit down, please. Make yourself comfortable." He was pleased to see that Bruce relaxed slightly when Avenger, Steve's cat, immediately plopped himself on his lap.

"Bruce? What's on your mind?" he asked gently, settling himself in a chair nearby. "Something's bothering you."

"Well, Steve, I can assure you that you're not gonna like what I have to say one bit."

Steve's brows furrowed but he waved a hand. "It's okay, Bruce. Please, just tell me what's on your mind. I noticed you weren't paying much attention during the movie and I figured that something might be wrong." As leader of the Avengers, he took it upon himself to look after them.

Bruce's head snapped up. "You're pretty observant."

Steve cocked his head slightly with a lopsided grin. "Between living with Hawkeye and being a soldier, there's not a whole lot I miss. Please, tell me what's wrong." The soldier had never gotten over his role as Captain, and cared deeply about his men, desiring to help them any way he could.

"As you may know, I am aware of every bit of gamma radiation on the planet, thanks to the... Other Guy," Bruce began. He knew the team accepted the Hulk just like they accepted him, but that didn't mean he felt any less awkward about it. After an acknowledging nod from Steve, he continued. "Well, today I started picking up on a strong source of radiation from Germany."

Steve's head snapped up at that. Even though he had been able to move on and come to terms for the most part with the fact that he had lost seventy years, the mention of Germany still set him slightly on edge. "What is it?" he demanded softly.

"There's a fellow there who is determined to take over the world, starting with Germany. He's doing it one step at a time, but he's already successfully destroyed a small army station in a remote part of Germany. Apparently, he managed to preserve a small piece of the Tesseract."

"What? Why haven't we heard anything about it? I know we quit SHIELD, but I'd think that'd get their attention enough to at least try to get us to go in." Steve's heart was beginning to race madly and he took a deep breath in an attempt to settle his nerves.

"SHIELD doesn't know. I was only able to find out from my awareness of Gamma rays. This guy is pretty clever - he doesn't want his cover blown jus' yet. Not only did he destroy the building, but he got every one of the army at the post under his mind control. He even managed to make a hologram of the outpost so no one can tell from a distance that anything's wrong."

Steve's throat went dry and his stomach seemed suddenly queasy at those words. "Do you know who it is?" he demanded, his voice low and deadly.

"Yes." Bruce's eyes met Steve's and the sorrow there worried Steve even more than the terrifying story he'd just told. "Steve, I don't know any easy way to break this to you, but it's Red Skull."

All color drained from Steve's face and he clutched the arms of the chair in a death grip. "Red Skull?" he gasped. His arch-nemesis had died from the Tesseract, or so he thought, but it was the man's bombs that had forced Steve to drop a plane into the ocean and save New York. "He's dead!"

"Apparently not," Bruce replied gently. "From what little I can gather, he's spent the past seventy years perfecting that little bit of Tesseract that he had and he can now use it just as well as Loki did."

But Steve was no longer listening. Memories were slamming into him from every direction and he couldn't think. _Bucky, dying while trying to stop Red Skull. A hundred soldiers vaporized while he watched. Fighting Red Skull on the plane. Knowing he had no choice but to drop the plane in the ocean. Peggy. Hawkeye, under the influence of Loki seventy years later._ An agonized gasp ripped from his throat, and he slumped forward in the chair, head buried in his hands. Bruce was on his knees in front of him in an instant, trying to break through, knowing the super-soldier was on the verge of going into shock.

Clint chose that moment to step out of the bathroom, clad in sweatpants and a t-shirt, towel in hand as he dried his hair. He'd heard the voices but his poor hearing didn't allow him to distinguish who was there, and had assumed like Steve that it was Thor. He was horrified to see his best friend bent over in the chair, shoulders shaking, and Bruce Banner kneeling in front of him, murmuring something Hawkeye couldn't distinguish.

"Steve?" Clint demanded, terrified, for he'd never seen the other man act like this. In an instant he'd tossed the towel aside and dropped to his knees beside Bruce, hands gripping Steve's forearms. He expected some form of response, but Steve was so far into a state of shock that he didn't get one.

"Banner? What's going on?" Clint barked, not attempting to restrain the fear in his voice.

"Red Skull is alive," Bruce replied succinctly.

Clint was rattled enough to sink back on his heels, letting go of Steve's arms, and stare at the doctor for a minute. "What! I thought he died!"

"That's what we all thought. We were wrong - real wrong. An' now I can't bring him out of the shock after I told him - which is bad because his pulse is spiking dangerously. If he can't get out of it on his own, I'm going to have to sedate him for his own safety."

Pushing aside his astonishment in a need to take care of his friend, Hawkeye shook his head, knowing how much Steve hated losing consciousness like that. It brought back far too many memories of seventy years trapped in ice. "Not yet. Let me try first," he pleaded softly, even as his hands returned to Steve's arms.

Bruce nodded and Clint tightened his grip on Steve's wrists. "Steve? Come'n, buddy, talk to me. You're safe here - we're in New York in our apartment." No response. Bruce, monitoring Steve's pulse, shook his head. The soldier's pulse was still skyrocketing dangerously. In desperation, and hating himself for it, Clint shifted his grip to the pressure points in Steve's arms and squeezed, hard. With a startled cry of pain, Steve's head snapped up and he looked around, dazed, as he came back to reality. Clint instantly released his grip but kept a contact with Steve's arm. "Easy. I'm sorry, pal, but I couldn't think of another way to bring you out of it. It was either that or sedate you."

Steve gave a short nod before whispering hoarsely, "Red Skull's alive."

Clint's hand shifted to his shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. "I know. Take it easy. We'll stop him, I promise."

Steve nodded and sank back in the chair, exhausted. Bruce turned to Clint. "Hate to tell you, friend, but you're not gonna like this either."

"You mean there's more?"

"Unfortunately. Clint, he has a small piece of the Tesseract and has spent the last seventy years mastering it. He's somehow managed to perfect mind control as well as Loki did, an' I just told Cap that he's already taken over a small army outpost. Far as I can tell, we're the only ones that know. And also the only ones that can stop him."

This time it was Clint's face that went pale with shock and he sank back to lean heavily against the couch. _That spear in his chest. Calmly shooting Director Fury down. Trying to kill Agent Hill. Helping Loki kill over eighty people in four days. Wanting to kill Natasha, the love of his life. Phil dying._ "No," he groaned deep in his throat.

Somehow seeing his best friend in that state snapped Steve back into soldier mode. He'd seen Clint helpless once before, and he wasn't about to let it happen again. He was enraged now. "Once in a lifetime is more than enough. We're going to stop him if it's the last thing we do."

Clint sat up a little straighter, pulling himself back to the present with an effort upon hearing the ringing authority in Steve's voice. "You got a plan, Cap?"

"Workin' on it," Steve replied shortly. He spun around, all thoughts of rest and relaxation long gone. "Jarvis!" he barked at Tony's AI. While he still wasn't used to the idea, he had to admit that the AI did come in handy at times.

"Yes, Captain?" the pleasant, formal voice responded instantly.

"Tell the others to meet in the common room in five minutes, no exceptions."

"Right away, Sir."

Steve pulled Clint up to his feet, but almost seemed to look straight through him, his mind obviously already leaping ahead. Planning and leading was his forte, and it was showing plain now.

By the time Tony, Natasha and Thor got to the common room five minutes later, the other three men were already there. To Natasha and Thor's surprise, Steve was scrunched into the corner of the couch in as small a ball as he could manage given his height, while Hawkeye perched on the armrest and had a hand resting protectively on his shoulder. Both men were pale and Bruce stood nearby, a tablet in his hand. Steve was wavering in and out of shock and Banner wanted to be close by in case he actually succumbed to it. For the moment, Hawkeye's hand on his shoulder seemed to be keeping him grounded, but Bruce wasn't sure that would last.

"Jus' what exactly is so all-fired important that it couldn't wait till morning?" Tony grumbled irritably. "Some of us need our beauty sleep, you know." Despite the fact that they'd split up only about half an hour previously, he'd already been asleep and had been woken by his AI just a few minutes previously, as was evidenced by his rumpled hair.

He grumbled, that is, until he saw Steve's eyes. While the prevailing emotion in them was anger, he also saw grief and perhaps even a hint of fear. Glancing at Clint, he saw an almost identical picture. His voice softened as he realized something was seriously wrong. "Fellas? What's wrong?" he demanded, his voice unusually gentle.

"Red Skull's alive," Steve replied tersely.

"And he's got a bit of Tesseract," Clint added, voice just as taut as Steve's.

The other Avengers stared in astonishment while Bruce quietly pulled up an image on his tablet and swiped it so it was displayed on the larger screen so all could see. "I found this while you guys were watching the show. It's a remarkably well-done hologram that would fool almost any casual observer. Red Skull has apparently spent the last seventy years perfecting the use of that cube and he has mastered the art of mind control. He took over this outpost, destroyed it, and brainwashed all the soldiers. It appears he's beginning an army, and while I don't know what he plans, we can assume it won't be good."

"Not letting him get away with ruining anybody else's life." Steve's voice was low and dangerous, very unlike the mild Captain they all knew. "If I have to stop him alone, I will."

When Clint spoke it was for all of them. "Not on your life, Cap. You step on one of our toes, you step on `em all."

Tony nodded sharply. "That's right! Let's bring this guy a taste of the party!" he shouted with a grin as he remembered leading the Leviathon into the Avengers' laps during the battle for New York.

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Since Tony has the worst idea of a party I've ever heard, I'd better come along just to make sure you boys don't get in trouble."

"Thor is never one to avoid a fight," Thor rumbled.

"And you can use my expertise in tracking him down. In other words, Cap, there's no reason for you to do this alone. We're all with you," Bruce added quietly.

Steve glanced at each of his friends individually. "Thank you," he murmured sincerely, feeling a light press on his shoulder from Natasha, who'd slipped up to lean against Hawkeye.

"You got a plan, Cap?" Tony asked.

"Unless Bruce can get some more detail, I don't think we're going to be able to really plan until we get on the ground. We have no idea what his next step is, aside from apparently taking over the military somehow. His ultimate goal, unless it's changed drastically, is to wipe the US off the map an' take over the rest of the world. An' he doesn't care how many bodies he has to climb over to do it." Steve's voice was bitter and he had to fight to ignore the image of Bucky plunging from the train to his death.

Everyone's faces were set in stone at Steve's sobering words and Tony spoke up. "We can take one of the Stark jets tomorrow morning. Jarvis, make sure that the hangar is aware that we will be departing at eight o'clock tomorrow morning."

"Right away, Sir."

"Come'n, we'd better get some sleep," Banner advised gently. "I have the feeling we're gonna need it."

The others nodded in silent agreement and left the room, the mood far more somber than it had been an hour previously.


	2. Quite a Man

Steve and Clint took the elevator to their apartment without a word. While Clint had mostly overcome his shock at finding out about the Tesseract and Red Skull's mind-controlling abilities, he knew Steve would have a much harder time. It was this knowledge that made him quietly follow Steve when he went into his room and picked up a picture of him and Bucky before sinking slowly onto the bed, tears in his eyes.

"Steve," Clint said softly, leaning against the doorjamb.

The Captain's head snapped up, startled. He hadn't heard the archer follow him, but that didn't really surprise him. The man could and did move like a cat. "He killed my best friend, an' destroyed everything I knew. I thought he was dead - an' now I find out he's tryin' to do it all over again! What if he succeeds? What if he kills you an' Tash an' everybody else I care about? What then? A life like that would be a hundred times worse than death! I can't do this again, Clint!" Steve choked out bitterly.

In an instant Clint had crossed the room and in a rare display of affection slipped his arm around the other man. "He won't, Cap. We're the Avengers, remember? You actually have a chance now to make this man pay for his crimes against humanity - avenge everyone whose lives he destroyed. He's not gonna win, Cap, for the simple reason that good's always going to triumph over evil. That's what you taught me in the past year, Steve! Or was it all a lie?" At a slow shake of Steve's head, Clint plowed on relentlessly. "Even if we lose, which we won't, because we're the best there is, someone's gonna stop him. An' remember, this time, you don't have to go it alone. You promised me once you'd watch my back - well, this time it's my turn to watch yours an' you better believe I'll do jus' that."

Steve turned his head to stare at Clint for a long minute in astonishment. Even his and Bucky's friendship hadn't been this strong. Never had he known such loyalty and even as he realized the fact, he also realized it applied to the entire team. They'd gladly follow him to the devil's stronghold and bring him back if he asked them. With tears in his eyes, Steve asked softly, "What did I ever do to deserve friends like this?"

Clint's mouth quirked in a tiny smile. "You were you, Cap. You care, an' you earned our trust an' love an' respect. Takes quite a man for a bunch of misfits like us to follow you an' actually trust you."

No words seemed really appropriate after a statement like that, so Steve simply pulled the archer into a tight hug for a moment. Hawkeye, though not one for any display of affection unless under dire circumstances, nonetheless returned the hug willingly for a long moment before gently pulling away. "Sleep, Cap. You're gonna need it."

He saw Steve's face pale just slightly as they both knew the nightmares would be hitting hard tonight. Clint grinned a little. "I'm not goin' anywhere. The dreams aren't gonna be nice to either of us tonight."

Steve couldn't help but grin a little as well as he scooted over. Ever since the battle of New York and their subsequent discussion, they'd found that their nightmares eased with the presence of the other for the simple reason that they could understand exactly how the other felt. Since then, on the occasion that one had a nightmare, the other "pulled guard duty," as they called it, and kept watch. The nightmares always seemed to diminish somehow with a strong shoulder pressed against another.

The nightmares came for both of them that night, but they were able to comfort one another and when they woke at six the following morning, they actually felt rested. Steve prepared a massive breakfast, knowing they'd need the energy, before they headed down to the armory in Tony's basement to gather their equipment and join the others.


	3. When the Going Gets Tough

After Hawkeye landed Tony Stark's multi-million dollar jet at the German airport closest to the military compound taken over by Red Skull, they swiftly unloaded their equipment and piled it neatly beside the plane. Steve surveyed his team silently for a second. While they were attempting to go undercover as much as possible and draw as little attention to themselves as possible, they still looked tough and ready for anything. Steve and Bruce both wore green fatigues and tan t-shirts, while Hawkeye and Tony wore black fatigues and black t-shirts. Thor had actually been convinced to wear something more reasonable than his usual attire and was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, as was Natasha. Steve glanced at Bruce and Natasha. "You guys ready?"

"On it, Cap," Natasha replied. With a quick wave of her arm to Bruce, she led him toward the airport terminal where they would be renting an SUV, posing as a honeymooning couple. While it would have been simpler for Clint and Natasha to play this part together, the archer simply looked too tough to pull off a decent scam. The others were too recognizable as part of the Avengers, so the duty fell to Bruce and Natasha.

Within fifteen minutes, they were back, driving a giant Hummer that looked like it could bull its way through anything. "Guys, we got a problem," Natasha announced grimly by way of greeting.

"You mean aside from being in the middle of Nowheresville Germany tracking a supposedly dead guy with a power source that can make grown men a bunch of his own personal flying monkeys?" Tony demanded with a taunting wink at Steve that the Captain pointedly ignored.

Natasha shot him a withering glance before continuing. "When we rented the Hummer, we told the man at the front desk we wanted it because we were going camping in some rugged parts of the mountains and wanted to be sure we could get wherever we wanted. He got a little concerned and asked where we were going. I told him the general direction, and he pointed at the TV. Red Skull's already here, or at least his men are - they are already attempting to take over a small village not far from the outpost. They've got captives - about seventy of them to be exact, held in a school. They're not even letting the children go, and while they don't appear to be under mind-control yet, Bruce and I don't think that will last any longer than it takes Red Skull to get there."

"The German National Guard has been scrambled, but there's only one road in, and there was a conveniently major flood, probably begun by our friend Red Skull. The bridge is out an' while their engineers are on site it will take at least four hours to get it back up, which is four hours too long. Most of their choppers are on assignment in Iraq, and the only one large enough to carry enough soldiers to confront these terrorists is being repaired. Any way you look at it, it would appear that this was well planned and, more to the point, we're all the hope that village has got," Bruce summed up grimly.

"All right, the time table has just been moved up. Let's get this stuff in the Hummer an' get out of here." Steve, in full soldier mode now, whirled as he spoke, quickly beginning to pile things into the massive vehicle. "Tony, can Jarvis be reached from here?"

"Certainly, Sir. My capabilities are not limited by distance," a calm, British accent chimed in his ear as Tony grinned and bowed.

"Good! Jarvis! I need a map of the village of Auburg sent to Tony's Stark-pad or whatever those things are called." He'd forgotten that they'd activated their comm devices as soon as they landed, and he also hadn't realized that Jarvis could work from such a distance, but he was grateful regardless.

"Right away, Sir."

"Dr. Banner, I need you tracking the whereabouts of Red Skull. Wherever the Gamma radiation is coming from is where he's got to be, and if he's not at this village, I want to know where he is."

Within two minutes, the Hummer was loaded and speeding out of the airport, leaving only a stench of burned rubber behind. Tony was at the wheel, while Bruce hunched over a Stark-pad in the passenger seat beside him. Natasha was calmly and expertly going over each piece of weaponry in the back seat, heedless of Tony's rather reckless driving that slid her from one side to the other on sharp turns. In the rear of the Hummer, Steve, Thor, and Hawkeye sat Indian-style around a second Stark-pad, knees braced against walls and equipment to keep from sliding around. With Jarvis's assistance, they'd pulled up a 3-D image of the village they were about to assault and were systematically planning how to attack it. While the Captain and archer were technically the only soldiers in the group, Thor had had training in Asgard and was able to offer some valuable advice. The three men pulled 3-D images of the village around, studying it carefully from every angle, with an emphasis on the school. By the time they felt the vehicle beginning to slow, they had their plan fully cemented.

Tony braked just outside of audio and visual range of the village. "And that concludes Tony Stark's world-famous tour of the wilds of Germany. As you disembark, please take small children by the hand, gather all personal belongings, and watch your step. Thank you for choosing Stark Tours and be sure to come again!"

The others rolled their eyes but were too focused on the mission at hand to respond to the billionaire as they quickly and silently unloaded the vehicle. Steve pulled up the map once more and waved the others around it. "Thor, I need you on the south side of the school - that's the only way the soldiers have to go. From everything we can tell from the satellite images Jarvis has been sending in, everyone, hostages and soldiers alike, is in the school. We got a break in that the east wall is solid against a cliff - no going around it. Tony, you're gonna have to draw as many of the soldiers out as you can. Nat and I are going in the front door to take down whoever's left inside. Bruce, your job is to help with containment, but if Stark and Thor have it handled, we're going to need you inside. As soon as the hostages are safe, Natasha and I will join the rest of you outside. The first and primary goal is to make sure the hostages remain alive and unhurt, but remember we need at least one soldier alive to guide us to Red Skull. Hawkeye, you got all our backs - not only will you have to call out patterns an' take out men, but you'll have to keep an eye out for any incoming help. Under no circumstances are you to leave that position, no matter what happens on the ground. If any of them tries to radio for help or get away, you'll have to stop them. Everyone clear?"

Five sets of heads nodded sharply, and Steve found himself amazed at the absolute trust that he saw in each of their faces.

"Good. Hawkeye?" Steve glanced at his best friend and felt an unfamiliar twinge of fear as he stared into the steel-blue eyes. Hawkeye didn't just look tough; he looked downright deadly. He carried three knives: a small one in a sheath strapped on his upper left arm, another strapped to the outside of his right calf, and the last in the small of his back. A pistol was strapped to his left thigh, and a pouch attached to his belt carried four hand grenades. His traditional bow and arrows hung over his shoulder and in his right hand he carried an assault rifle.

Hawkeye nodded once. "Give me ten minutes. I'll give two clicks on the radio when I'm in position."

The rest turned back to the equipment as Hawkeye made to move off, but Steve hesitated a second longer as Hawkeye glanced at him. For an instant the tough archer faded, leaving the vulnerable man exposed. They both knew they were thinking about the Tesseract, and the fact that if Clint ended up under its power once more, the team would be destroyed. Clint's eyes shot a question. _Do you trust me?_

The response was instant and sure_. Beyond a shadow of doubt._ No words were necessary to carry the trust in Steve's eyes.

Relief flashed across Clint's face as the last bit of his soul healed from Loki's power and then the Hawk was back. With a sloppy salute and tough grin, Hawkeye spun into the brush and was gone, silent as a wraith.

Though he'd only had his back turned about three seconds longer than the others, by the time Steve faced the rest of his team, all of the equipment was laid out. Tony was in the process of suiting up and Natasha was buckling her ammo belt into place above the twin holsters of her guns. Like Hawkeye, she carried grenades at her hip in case they needed to blast their way into the building. "Sure you don't want a gun, Cap? Hawkeye tells me you're quite the shot."

"No. I won't take the risk of shooting an innocent - I'll leave the shooting to you an' Hawkeye."

She shrugged, one eyebrow arching slightly in mild disapproval. "Your call, Cap."

Steve turned to Tony. "Tony, you get your wish of bringin' the party. Whenever Hawkeye signals, you get their attention - blare music, shoot fireworks in the sky, I don't care, but draw `em out. Thor, Banner, I want you standing by an' when they come out, you take `em! Nat, wait for my signal, an' then we charge." Again, the Captain found his teammates nodding, willing to follow him to the death, no questions asked. "All right, everyone get in position. Tony, come in from the south - an' make sure we can't miss it!"

As the team broke to their respective positions, he couldn't help but feel a surge of pride. Ragtag and eccentric they might be, but this was a team who had taken on an army and come out on top. And then came two clicks in his ear and the deceptively peaceful scene before him was shattered.


	4. Fireworks and Streamers

Inside the school, terrified hostages and tough guards alike were startled by the sudden blasting of peppy, very American music. Tony, with the assistance of Jarvis, had somehow overridden the school's PA system and was blasting away. "Come on out, ya'll! You're missin' the party!" he drawled over the speakers.

From his post against the side of a building, Steve couldn't help but smirk just a little, despite the complete seriousness of the situation. As the soldiers began streaming out of the building in shock and confusion, Tony calmly shot flares out of his suit and then, as he began blasting away, fired out a streamer that dragged behind him as he dodged around. Steve and Natasha glanced at each other and began to laugh softly. The banner read, "Welcome to the party!" Steve shook his head. "I didn't mean him to take it quite so literally, but he sure did get their attention! Only Stark would manage to produce a banner an' fireworks at a time like this!"

Now that the confused soldiers realized they were under attack, they immediately began to retaliate. Two burst for the south side of the school, but Thor calmly took them down. Another ran for a Jeep, only to have it blow up in his face as Hawkeye anticipated him and lit it up with an explosive arrow. Banner, who had by now transformed into the Hulk, had charged into the middle of the fray and was tossing them right and left. "Stark! Get them away from the main entrance!" Steve bellowed. He was chafing, knowing he and Natasha needed to get into the school before the soldiers started killing hostages.

"Your wish is my command," Stark intoned, sweeping over the soldiers and peppering them with blasts from his weapons before drawing them in Thor's direction. Like a herd of sheep, the majority compliantly followed, eager to get away from the rampaging Hulk.

Seeing an opening, Steve gave a short nod to Natasha and they charged, ignoring the bullets and Hawkeye's arrows flying through the air around them. The door was closed, but they didn't slow their charge. Instead, Steve slammed his shoulder into it and bulled his way through, trusting Natasha to cover him.

Natasha took out a soldier whose gun was aimed directly at the Captain and then they hurried down the darkened hallway. They heard voices and crying suddenly and Steve slammed through the door to the cafeteria. Inside were nearly seventy five terrified people, along with six guards. "Everybody down!" Steve yelled, knowing Natasha couldn't possibly use her gun here without endangering the civilians. Even as he yelled, he threw his shield at the nearest guard while diving for another.

One went for a little girl to use as a shield and Natasha shot him, regretting having to do it in front of the children, but knowing she didn't have a choice. The room was filled with screams, but even as he wrestled with a soldier, Steve saw out of the corner of his eye two of the teachers had taken down one of the guards while Natasha was leaping at the remaining one.

Less than thirty seconds after their frenzied charge into the room, everything was still. Steve scrambled to his feet, panting slightly, and retrieved his shield. "Anybody speak English?"

"I do," a man said, stepping forward. "I'm the principal. Most of the adults were gone helping with a damaged bridge leaving just the children and a few adults behind when these soldiers came in and took over. What's going on? Who are you?"

"No time to explain. Barricade yourselves in this room and don't let anyone in until one of us comes for you. Is anyone hurt?"

"One gunshot wound, a broken arm, and some cuts from flying glass." To his credit, the man actually kept his calm, soothed perhaps by a recognition of Steve's obviously American shield.

Steve nodded once and tossed him a backpack. "There's medical supplies in there. Take care of them the best you can - we have a doctor with us an' I'll send him in as soon as possible."

Without another word, he and Natasha left the room, hearing it instantly locked behind them. When they reached the doorway, Steve could instantly see that there was trouble. While his four men were fighting their hardest, taking down armed, crazed soldiers was no easy feat, and Thor was clearly in trouble. Bullets bounced off the Hulk like they were nothing, and Tony had the advantage of being able to fly, but Thor only had his hammer. He was backed into a corner and was clearly not about to go down without a fight, but even with Hawkeye's deadly arrows taking them down, at least ten soldiers were advancing on him. "Nat! Stay near the entrance - don't let any of them get through, understand? I'm goin' out there - Thor's in trouble!"

Without waiting for a reply, Steve charged out of the school, shield flying in front of him and taking out two soldiers in one swoop. With a wild yell to disorient them, Steve waded in, knocking men flat. It gave Thor the brief respite he needed and he charged in as well, swinging with his hammer. Steve gradually fought his way away from Thor, spreading the soldiers ever thinner. Even though he was now out of Hawkeye's range of vision and thus could not rely on him, he had no qualms about taking on the three soldiers who followed him alone.


	5. Man Down!

"Nat's down!" Hawkeye's strained voice echoed suddenly over the tactical net. In instant response, he heard four inarticulate growls of fury. Hurt one of the men, and that was bad enough; hurt Natasha, their little sister and Hawkeye's girlfriend...well, things would get ugly.

Steve's voice broke through the chaos. "Where is she an' how bad is she hit?"

"She's down near the front door, an' she's alive. She seemed stunned but she has her gun out now. They're tryin' to rush her," Hawkeye replied, his tone short and clipped as he continued to fire at the soldiers charging Natasha.

"Right. Cover me - I'm going in after her."

Hawkeye snarled under his breath at the fact that he couldn't go after her, but he had given his word, and he was the only one with sufficient firepower to cover the rescue. "On my signal," he murmured into the comm device, his voice taut with concentration as he drew back another arrow. As he let it loose, he shouted, "Now!"

Immediately he saw the Captain, previously out of sight, burst into the courtyard and sprint across it. His shield was held in front of him, back completely exposed, trusting Hawkeye implicitly to watch his back. Thor and the Hulk were completely occupied with the soldiers surrounding them and unable to offer any sort of assistance, but Tony blasted away at as many as he could while also defending his position.

Natasha saw Steve coming and covered his approach as best she could from her angle. She could have backed away from the school building and around a nearby partial wall for further protection, but she wasn't about to leave her post and allow the soldiers to go after hostages once more. Every shot she fired was a guaranteed kill, but she was almost out of bullets as he reached her. "`bout time, Cap," she said snarkily as he pulled her into his arms.

"Bit warm for a run - decided I'd break less of a sweat in a jog," Steve shot back with a saucy grin, relief plain in his voice that she was still able to joke.

The light mood was interrupted suddenly as an arrow soared over Steve's head, clearing it by less than two inches, and embedded itself in a soldier who had come out of nowhere with a knife that would have done serious damage even to Captain America. "Nice shot, Hawkeye!" Steve called even as he lowered Natasha to the ground behind a low wall outside the perimeter. "Tash? Where are you hurt, an' how bad?"

She pulled her hand away from her side, revealing a bloody gash. "Clipped me in the side - it's not bad, but it took the wind out of me and I turned my ankle when I went down so I couldn't get back up. Also knocked out my comm device when I fell."

Steve bent over and examined the wound carefully. She was right - the wound was nothing more than a bad graze and would heal quickly. Ripping a bandage from his pack, he bound it tightly. "Take it easy, Tash, no runnin' around. But if you're up to it, we can use your firepower." The only response was a grim nod and Natasha was back in the fight.

"Steve?" Even over the comm device, the worry in Clint's voice was obvious.

"She's fine, Clint, I promise. Just a graze an' a sprained ankle. Her unit is down."

Though he'd been fully in focus before, Hawkeye's nerves settled on hearing that Natasha would be all right and he calmly lobbed a grenade at the one remaining vehicle, once again just before anyone could reach it. He had to admit to himself that he loved watching the man's astonishment as the Jeep blew up just feet from him, but he only allowed himself a split second of humor before tracking his next target.


	6. Closed Door Policy

Though to Steve it seemed to last forever, the fighting truly lasted little more than five minutes before it began to die down. He saw a man nearby, badly injured but still alive, and hurried over to him. He grabbed the soldier's arm roughly and shook it. "Look you, who set you up for this? Red Skull?"

The man's head shook faintly. He was dying and he knew it. Steve saw no evidence of mind control here, but he supposed that didn't necessarily mean anything. Red Skull was cagey enough to have come up with some other way to manipulate people. "Not...not Red Skull. Silver...Silver Tongue," the man panted, voice strained from pain.

"Silver Tongue?" The name was an unfamiliar one to Steve.

"Red Skull's...general. Not...not dumb enough...to get near...fighting. About three...three miles away...at command...post." The man strained, as though wanting to say something more, but his eyes rolled back in his head and he was gone.

"Hawkeye!" Steve barked over the comm unit.

"I heard, Cap," Hawkeye replied before Steve had a chance to say anything else.

Puzzled for an instant and then realizing the dying man's voice must have carried over the comm device, Steve said, "You an' I are goin' in. The others can hold this place now. Stark! You're in charge." Normally he would have given command to Natasha, but in the highly unlikely event that she actually passed out, someone else needed to be in charge. "Hold it till the National Guard comes an' then follow us. Tell Banner when he comes back to himself that there's injuries inside," he snapped.

"You got it, Capsicle."

Steve swung around to climb up to Hawkeye's position, only to find the archer scant inches from his face. He'd fired an arrow into the ground and repelled down to the soldier's position, silent as a ghost.

Steve's mouth quirked in a tight smile and without a word needing to be spoken, they hurried down a narrow trail that led deep into the woods.

Steve led the way, shield at the ready, while Hawkeye slipped silently behind him, bow and arrow at the ready. They'd cautiously but quickly covered about two miles, beyond the reach of their comm devices, when Steve held up a hand. There was a feel to the forest that he couldn't identify but didn't like. The hair on the back of his neck tingled and he glanced around uneasily as Hawkeye slid up beside him. "What's wrong, Cap?" Hawkeye whispered.

"Not sure. Jus' a gut instinct somethin's wrong."

"I was gettin' it too," Hawkeye hissed back. "Like we're bein' watched, but I don't see anybody."

"Me either. Stick close," Steve warned softly. Some instinct warned him to drop to his stomach and he did, Hawkeye following his lead. Side by side they crawled forward, eyes flicking in seemingly every direction at once.

Without warning, the ground below them gave way, sending them tumbling in a tangle of arms and legs. Finally skidding to an ungainly stop at the bottom of a ravine, they shook their heads to clear them...only to hear the unmistakable click of at least ten assault rifles.

"Ahh - the general and Silver Tongue were correct. It would be simple to capture you two fools. That was a fine trick to cover over this ravine with a thin tarp and brush. Now you are our prisoners and it will be my pleasure to deliver you to Silver Tongue. I can assure you that whatever he has in mind will be most unpleasant. And do not hope for rescue from your friends - they will have no idea where you have gone. Now, leave your weapons on the ground and get on your feet."

Slowly. reluctantly, but not wanting to risk getting the other killed, the friends obeyed, hands raised. They shot each other appraising glances and were mutually relieved to see nothing more than a few scrapes and bruises despite their tumble. "Who's Silver Tongue?" Hawkeye hissed out of the corner of his mouth as four men cautiously advanced toward them while the remaining six kept guard.

"No clue, but I get the feeling we'll be finding out soon enough," Steve muttered grimly.

As they were speaking, they glanced quickly around, appraising the situation. Alone, either of them would try to escape; they would not, however, risk their friend's life. The leading soldier seemed to notice this, and goaded, "Silver Tongue was right. He said if you two came alone, and he made sure you would, that you wouldn't risk taking us when we'd just kill your friend. That mentality is dangerous - I'm surprised that two such intelligent young men would fall into its temptations."

"Yeah? Sure seems better than followin' a guy who's just going to blow ya outta the water whenever he gets tired of havin' you around." Hawkeye was in his element here. In his rather violent career, he'd been captured many times and always found a way out. He didn't even react when he felt the clasp of cold steel around his wrist before his hands were jerked roughly down behind him. What concerned him was the fact that they were being significantly rougher with Steve, deliberately tightening the cuffs too much so that even as Hawkeye watched, tiny trails of blood trickled from his fingertips. He had the uneasy feeling that he was the bait that would lead his beloved Captain to his death.

In situations such as this, Steve and Clint were complete opposites. While he'd rush in madly if the circumstances were right, Steve this time partially detached himself and began to think, trying to come up with some way to get them out of this alive. He'd quietly observed Hawkeye stripped of all his weapons and unless he had a knife hidden somewhere that Steve didn't know about, they were in serious trouble. It wasn't that he was frightened for himself. His concern was rather that if he made one false move, they would kill Hawkeye and most likely the rest of the team. He would have to play along until he could figure out some way to get them out of this without getting his best friend killed...again.

A rough shove from behind staggered him enough to snap him back to reality. He and Hawkeye were prodded roughly through the ravine and up a hill to a chopper waiting in a small clearing. Steve and Clint shared a quick glance. The chopper meant three things: One, there was a possibility that the rest of the team would see it fly over and at least have an idea of what had happened when they failed to return; two, if they could somehow take it over, Hawkeye could easily fly it; and three, if one and two failed, they were going to be in far deeper trouble.

The commanding soldier chuckled, seeming to interpret their thoughts. "Don't be thinking of any rescue, fellas. This is a stealth chopper - you see, my friends, the General studied SHIELD's tactics and has produced this chopper that has reflection panels and is almost impossible to hear. Secondly, there will be no chance for you to escape."

Even as he spoke, Steve and Clint were shoved into the chopper, and to their astonishment, their handcuffs were removed. Brows furrowed in puzzlement, but covered by too many guns to try anything, they stood shoulder to shoulder. "Sit back to back," the soldier barked sharply.

Hesitantly, but not daring to risk injury to the other, they complied. Instantly, a soldier dropped down beside them. Their wrists were crossed, then Clint's left wrist was lashed tightly to Steve's right, and his right to Steve's left. To finish, a rope was wrapped around all four of their wrists and then bound to a bracket in the floor of the chopper. As soon as they were secured, the rest of the crew piled into the helicopter and it came to life. The man was right; it truly was the quietest helicopter they had ever encountered.

As soon as their captors' backs were turned, Steve, who had significantly longer fingers than Clint, instantly began fingering their wrists, trying to find a knot he could loosen. He soon gave up in frustration. The knots were tied in such a way that if he fought them, they would only tighten. He could snap the ropes by straining his muscles, but the way Hawkeye's hands were bound against his, it would almost certainly snap the archer's wrists as well. A quiet sigh escaped his lips. It appeared that for the moment they were well and truly stuck. Unsure of what else to do, and not daring to speak at the moment, he instead twisted his hand painfully until it grasped one of Clint's. "Sorry," he wrote out on the other man's palm.

Despite it all, the Captain's first thought was to apologize for something he had no control over. Clint grinned as he first squeezed back and then spelled out, "Not your fault. No worries, I still got my belt buckle." During one of his escapes from a prison in the wastelands of Russia, the only "tool" he'd had available was his belt buckle. With it he'd managed to pick a lock, take down three guards with his bare hands, and steal a truck.

Steve threw back his head and laughed. He knew the story Hawkeye was referring to, but that didn't make it any less remarkable, and somehow he felt a surge of hope that they would get out of this. Hawkeye quickly joined in his laughter, which continued until their chief captor whirled on them.

"Something amusing, gentlemen?"

Hawkeye shot him a feral grin that somehow managed to make him look deadly and send chills down the other's spine despite the fact that he was bound tightly. "Oh, only that you guys think you can win. Loki had - key word had, mind you - an army of thousands of metal aliens and all this so-called General Red Skull has is a puny army of 'flying monkeys' as Stark so aptly put it, of which I promote you to chief ape!"

A ringing blow across the face slammed him back into Steve, but it failed to wipe the grin from his face. "A little close to home, Mr. Monkey?" Clint taunted, earning another slap that left a trickle of blood on his lip.

"Of all times for you to pick up on Stark's slapstick humor, Barton, now is not it," Steve snapped, fear for Clint's life over-riding his usual calm demeanor. He hadn't called Clint by his last name in nearly six months, but he was afraid the man's biting wit would get him in trouble.

"Edgy, Captain?" the leader demanded. "I've been told you're cool and collected under pressure. Friendships really do mess things up."

"Let Clint go! You got me - that's all Red Skull really wants!"

"Ahh, but he is not the only one who wants you. Silver Tongue wants you first - then Red Skull."

Steve's brow was drawn tight in confusion. Just who exactly this Silver Tongue was was a mystery to him.

"Fine, he can have me, but what's Hawkeye got to do with all this? Let him go!"

"Your sentiment is touching, Captain, but your friend plays a critical role in this plan." His demeanor changed suddenly and he bent down, grabbing Steve's jaw painfully and producing a small pill. "Open your mouth."

Steve felt Hawkeye tense against him and he merely locked his jaw, knowing that whatever the man had in mind, he would never have the strength to pry it open. A man advanced toward them from the front of the chopper to help, but Hawkeye's foot shot out in a wicked kick that lifted the man clean off his feet and hurled him three feet away to smash into the bulkhead and slump down in a soundless heap. He couldn't see exactly what the man was trying to shove down Steve's throat, but he knew that whatever it was almost certainly would not be good.

In a flash of speed that surprised both men, the leader let go of Steve's throat, whipped one of Hawkeye's knives from his belt, and pressed it against his throat. "Open your mouth, or I'll slit his throat right here. He is an important part of the plan, but not an indispensable one."

With a threat to his friend hanging over him, Steve instantly opened his mouth. He saw out of the corner of his eye the knife removed from Hawkeye's throat and then a pill was shoved down his throat. He gagged on the bitter taste but choked it down as the leader stalked away without a backward glance.

Within seconds, the Captain's ears began to ring and spots started dancing in front of his eyes. He struggled unconsciously, and was vaguely aware that Clint's hand had grabbed his tightly. Steve tried to grab it back, but the coordination it required suddenly escaped him. "Steve? Steve, talk to me!" The archer's voice was strained, almost as anxious as it had been when Natasha was shot.

"Clint? So...so...tired, Cli..." Steve's voice trailed off before he could finish and Hawkeye felt the brunt of the larger man's weight sag limply against his own body.


	7. The Stuff of Dreams and Nightmares

The first thing he was aware of when he finally dragged his way back to consciousness hours later was the splash of cold water on his face. He shook his head, only to inhale a bit of water and cough, bringing him fully back to consciousness. He sat up with a start to find Clint sitting beside him on a tiny cot. "Nice nap, Cap?" Hawkeye teased softly, only his eyes revealing his relief.

Steve blinked twice, trying to drive the headache from behind his eyes. "Apparently. How long was I out?" He gratefully took the tin cup of water Hawkeye handed him and gulped it down.

"About six hours. An' before you ask, we flew about five and a half of that so unless we flew in circles an' landed near the same spot we took off, which we didn't, Stark an' the others aren't gonna have the first inkling of an idea where to look for us. I'm not even sure we're in Germany anymore."

With an effort, Steve pushed himself into a sitting position. When the world stopped spinning, he glanced at Hawkeye, relieved to see that he sported nothing more than the bruise on his cheekbone and the bloodied lip from last time he'd seen him. "You okay?" he confirmed.

"Yeah, sure, Cap, but next time you decide to use my shoulder as a pillow, let me put in some earplugs first. You snore like a buzz saw," he grouched, softening his words with a broad grin.

Steve chuckled softly before he scrambled to his feet and took one step forward, but the world tilted sickeningly and he wavered. He might have fallen had Hawkeye's arm not suddenly gone around his waist. "Whoa, easy there, Cap. You okay? That was some drug they gave you to put you out like that." The concern was back full force now.

Arm around Clint's shoulders, partially for balance and partially to reassure him, Steve replied, "Aside from a real humdinger of a headache, yeah, I'm good. Just got up too fast after being down for so long. Any way out of this place?" Now that he was on his feet and the drug was clearing his system, Steve truly was feeling better.

"Humdinger?" Hawkeye choked. "Come'n, Cap, that went out twenty years ago! Better'n seventy but you really need to catch up on your lingo!" He grinned as Steve rolled his eyes and smacked him playfully on the back of the head. "But in all seriousness, Steve, do you see any way outta here?" As he spoke, Hawkeye waved his hand casually around the small room. Steve followed his hand, gazing around the windowless, gloomy cell. As he did, he finally became aware of a chill. "I've been over this place with a fine-tooth comb, Cap, an' aside from the door, there jus' isn't any opening. Even that, there is no access to the hinges from the inside. Only way we're getting out is if somebody opens that door."

"Is it jus' me, or is it cold in here?" Steve demanded, temporarily accepting the fact that they weren't going anywhere anytime soon.

"You're not crazy, Cap," Hawkeye reassured him with a grin. "We're up in the mountains, and considering how high and cold they are, I'm not at all sure we're not in the Alps. In the two second glance I got before I was dragged in here, this looks like an old army barracks. Whatever it is, it's on top of a barren mountaintop. We'll have that to consider if we get out of here."

Steve shivered involuntarily, When they'd assaulted the village in the foothills in Germany several hours ago, it had been in the eighties, so all they had were thin short sleeve shirts. If they were to escape the buildings, hypothermia would be a real and dangerous threat if the cold temperatures in the prison cell were any indication. Steve himself probably wouldn't have too much problem with it for the simple reason that his body temperature was greater than most people's due to the serum, but Hawkeye would be in serious trouble if they didn't find a way to get proper clothing before they escaped.

He pulled away from Clint to pace restlessly, rubbing his arms against the chill. Much as he tried to think of other things, one mantra pounded relentlessly in his brain. _Red Skull killed Bucky. Can't let him kill Hawkeye too. _

"Steve."

Steve flinched, jerking back to reality when Hawkeye snapped his fingers in front of his nose, finally absorbing that the archer had been trying to get his attention for the past thirty seconds. "Come'n, Cap, relax. We gotta conserve our energy and heat for when we do get outta here - no sense burning it walking around in circles."

"Oh, uh, right," Steve mumbled, gradually pulling himself together. He sank down on the edge of the cot, tugging Clint down beside him, and wrapped the pathetically thin blanket around both of their shoulders. They sat there, propped against the wall, and chatted carelessly for nearly half an hour until suddenly the door swung open.

They were on their feet in an instant, both crouched slightly in defensive positions. Three soldiers were fanned out in the doorway while another with Major's stripes on his shoulders advanced. He pointed to Steve. "You will come with me, and you will not offer any form of resistance. Should you choose to do so, I will have no choice but to shoot your friend here."

Reluctantly, Steve nodded as Clint was forced back against the wall, eyes shooting death glares at the men pinning his arms. Once again he felt the bite of handcuffs in his wrists, wincing this time as it pressed on already tender flesh. He was roughly dragged down the hallway and through a winding corridor until they finally reached a door. His hands were freed and he was shoved violently into the room. He stumbled badly but managed to keep his feet. When he glanced up, a man stood with his back to him, staring out a massive window at the bitter cold landscape in front of him.

Steve felt his heart begin to pound painfully, to the point that he actually thought that it might burst. His knees felt weak and he was forced to lock them. He blinked hard in an attempt to clear his vision. Surely he was seeing things! Finally he found his voice. "Bucky? It can't be!" he croaked out.

Sergeant James Barnes whirled around to face him and Steve went to his knees, his legs no longer able to bear his weight. "Bucky! You're alive!"

"I regret to inform you, Captain Rogers, that Sergeant James Barnes died that day. The man you see now is Silver Tongue, and you are to address him as such. Red Skull found him and saved his life, but it came at a cost," a soldier Steve hadn't even been aware of intoned quietly before spinning away with a smart salute and leaving the two men alone.

"No! Bucky, it can't be true!" Steve pleaded hoarsely, gazing up into the cold eyes of the man who had once been his best friend.

"Oh, it's true all right, Rogers. You let me die that day - you could have saved me if you weren't such a coward! I said I'd follow you, but only because you were full of courage. You lost it that day when he blasted you into the side of the wall. You were strong enough, Captain! You could have saved me!"

"Bucky, I tried! Your hand slipped before I could grab it!"

"Lies!" Barnes yelled.

And then Steve understood. Red Skull had somehow saved Bucky's life, yes, but he'd also managed to warp the man's mind, leaving him just as powerless to control his own actions as Clint had been under Loki's control. Steve slowly got to his feet, hands extended toward the man he'd loved like a brother. "Bucky, listen to me. I know what's happening. Red Skull has gotten inside your head and is controlling you - I've seen another man do it before. You gotta fight it, Bucky."

"Oh no, it's much too late for that, Captain. You see, I enjoy this now! It is time to make you pay for what you have done," Barnes shot back, even as he turned his back on Steve and stalked to the window once more.

Steve's eyes darkened at those words, and then he noticed his shield lying on the desk. If he could just get his hands on that and knock Bucky out, then he'd come back to himself...hopefully. Barnes somehow seemed to anticipate his move and spoke. "You touch that shield, Captain, and your beloved archer will die. Look at the television screen to your left."

Steve froze in place and willed himself to look at the screen. Clint sat in the cell, surrounded by guards, one of whom pointed a rifle between his eyes. Shaken, Steve slowly lowered his hand back to his side. "The Bucky I know would never kill an innocent man."

Barnes whirled on him. "Innocent! You call that man innocent? Why, he's killed as many men in his lifetime as Red Skull, if not more! Besides, I thought you promised me that we would be best friends for life. As soon as I'm out of the picture, you find a new friend? Some man of honor you are, Captain."

"I did, Bucky! I saw you die, remember? And you're forgetting that it took seventy years. To all intents and purposes, we both died, Bucky!" Steve was yelling now, emotions shattered and raw. Realization was slamming into him and he plowed ahead, no longer caring what he said. "You orchestrated that takeover at the army outpost, didn't you? You blew the bridge an' held fifty children hostage, didn't you?"

Barnes grinned, and it was not a pleasant smile. "You're finally starting to get the picture, Captain. Little slow, aren't you? Just how else could I guarantee that you'd come? Red Skull had no problem with it - he'll get you whenever I'm done with you."

Steve took a step back despite himself. "The Bucky I know would never do that," he protested softly.

"The Bucky you knew died on that train, Captain. What you see now is Silver Tongue - and I happen to enjoy destroying everything you an' your friend Hawkeye an' the rest of your so-called Avengers work so hard to save!" As he spoke, relishing the absolute horror in Steve's eyes, Barnes struck Steve full across the face, opening a bloody gash on his cheekbone. Steve slumped to the ground, not from the blow, but from the realization that the man he'd have died a hundred times over to save was now a ruthless killer. He put up no protest as he was dragged from the room and shoved back into the cell.

Hawkeye glanced up when the door to the cell opened. Steve was shoved in, blood streaming from his face and white as a ghost. Clint lunged to his feet to help him, heedless of the guards who streamed out to leave the prisoners alone, but Steve stared straight through him. To Clint's horror, he stumbled to the corner of the cell and slumped down, arms wrapped around his knees, and began to rock, murmuring a name over and over.

Realizing now that the soldier was in shock, Clint dropped to his knees in front of him. "Steve? Steve, can you hear me? It's me, Hawkeye. Talk to me, buddy," he pleaded, heart pounding in fear for his friend. He wanted to reach out and touch him but realized that if Steve didn't know who he was - and he didn't seem to - the soldier might accidentally hurt him. They'd both learned the hard way that the reflexes of soldiers and assassins died hard and both had earned more than one black eye before they'd learned how to safely wake each other from a nightmare.

Steve could hear a familiar voice calling his name softly. He blinked hard, trying to draw himself back to reality, although he wasn't at all sure he wanted to come back if it meant accepting that Bucky was a killer. _What if he's already killed Clint?_ "It's me, Hawkeye." Those words sank in finally and Steve's eyes snapped open. "Clint?" he mouthed, unable to speak for the moment.

Hawkeye, kneeling in front of Steve's knees, saw the Captain's eyes blink rapidly and then saw his lips form his name. His face broke into a relieved smile as his hand went to Steve's neck, checking the pulse there, relieved to feel that though it was pounding wildly, it was also beginning to slow. He let his hand rest there for a second before dropping it to Steve's shoulder and lightly massaging the incredibly tense muscles. "Yeah, Steve, it's me, Clint. Can you talk to me, buddy? Are you hurt aside from your face?"

Steve's head shook faintly and then Hawkeye could just barely hear seemingly jumbled and irrelevant words. "Bucky...not dead...Silver Tongue...killer."

Realization slammed into Hawkeye like a brick wall, driving him back on his heels. "Bucky's alive, but he's Silver Tongue?" he demanded in astonishment and horror.

Steve nodded faintly. "Clint, I saw my best friend die in front of my eyes an' now I find out he is alive, is Red Skull's right hand man, and is a ruthless killer!" Steve's voice cracked but he didn't cry. The eyes that met Clint's horrified ones, however, were full of raw, unrestrained pain.

"Oh, Steve," Clint murmured. He was about to pull his friend into his arms when the door to the cell slammed open once more. Both men leaped to their feet, instinct kicking in as they each tried to protect the other.

Four men advanced on Hawkeye and Steve saw red. He charged, bulling into two soldiers. They went down, and one of them would never move again. In an instant the tiny room was swarming with soldiers. Steve went down under a pile of men, still fighting viciously, but not before he saw Clint being dragged away. "Clint, no!" The scream was ripped from his throat and he lunged to his feet, flinging aside men. He'd already lost one best friend; he wasn't about to lose another.

A man blocked his path suddenly. "Don't worry, Captain, you will see your friend again shortly. I have something special in mind for both of you, and I need him alive for it. However, what shape he is in for the following activities is up to you. If you continue to fight, I cannot vouch for how well he will be treated. If, however, you stop fighting, I will guarantee his safety for the time being."

Steve let his hands drop to his sides reluctantly. "Barnes, I don't know you anymore, but I promise you one thing. If you kill Clint, I won't hesitate to hunt you down and kill you. The man I knew died on the train - the man in front of me is a murderer who I won't hesitate to stop."

The Captain's words were low and deadly and Barnes felt a chill even as he nodded in acknowledgment. "Make yourself at home, Captain. I will come for you shortly, and we will have all sorts of fun."

With that, he was gone, the door slamming closed behind him. Steve sank to his knees in front of the cot, buried his face in his arms, and wept. _Clint...Bucky. Clint...Bucky. Clint...Bucky._


	8. The Choice

About ten minutes later, Steve heard footsteps coming down the hallway. He wiped his eyes dry and scrambled to his feet, back erect and head held high. He was composed and calm now and he looked every bit the confident soldier when the door swung open to reveal three soldiers. "You will come with us," one of them ordered sharply.

Steve gave a short nod and followed the man while the remaining two men fell in behind him. Much as he wanted to make a move, he knew he needed to first learn Hawkeye's condition. He was marched down a long hallway until at last they came to a door. It was opened, and a blast of cold air hit him full on. He shivered in spite of himself, and then he fully absorbed the sight in front of him. Hawkeye was standing in the middle of an open courtyard, wrists bound with leather to opposite ends of a thick beam so that his arms were outstretched and he was effectively immobilized. While he didn't appear to be hurt, even from where he stood, Steve could see that he was trembling slightly from the cold, the bitter wind and snow quickly robbing his body of warmth.

About thirty feet away stood Barnes, arms crossed and grinning tauntingly. All of the pent up anger and rage inside of Steve burst in that instant and he charged the man whom he'd once considered his best friend. When he was nose to nose with the other man, he bellowed, "Let him go! If you want to get revenge for what happened to you, fine, I can understand that. But don't you dare take it out on a man who wasn't even alive yet when everything happened! Let me take his place - give him a coat and a day's rations and let him go. Do whatever you want to me."

"Steve, no!" Hawkeye yelled, but Steve ignored him.

Barnes chuckled. "Your sentiment is truly touching, Captain, but you'll suffer a whole lot more if you see him hurting. We will play our little games, and then perhaps we can discuss letting your friend go."

As he spoke, Barnes gave a short nod to someone behind Steve's back. His attention fully on Barnes, Steve didn't notice until he heard a crack of a whip and a tiny whimper of pain from Clint that he couldn't hold back. With a cry, Steve whirled around to see a long tear in Clint's t-shirt, and a bloody welt quickly spreading across his chest and stomach. He saw the soldier bringing back the whip again, and it was without thinking that he moved. He charged across the intervening space and flung himself in front of the archer, arms outspread so that his body and arms completely shielded the smaller man. The whip caught him across the chest but he barely even felt it. Behind him, he heard Clint plead, "Steve, please, no! I can take it! Don't do this for me!"

"Not on your life, Clint," Steve hissed back. "I got you into this mess an' one way or another I'll get you out of it!"

Clint opened his mouth to protest but the angry snarl of the whip drowned out his words. As he felt Steve rock back slightly from the repeated blows, Hawkeye hung his head and let a single tear escape. _Please, Stark, find us before they kill Steve!_ It was true that the soldier could take far more than the average man, but that didn't mean he couldn't be seriously injured or perhaps even killed, and Hawkeye wasn't at all sure just how he'd face life without his best friend.

Then, just as suddenly as it had started, the whipping stopped at a sharp order from Barnes. "I'm impressed, Captain. I didn't expect you to take that beating for him. I'll admit I'm a little disappointed that you ruined my game. I wish I had time for some more, as the results could be truly interesting. Unfortunately, however, I've just been told that somehow your friends have figured out where you are and are on their way to rescue you. As a result, I am forced to move up my timetable." At a wave of his hand, the soldiers disappeared inside, leaving just the bound Hawkeye, the badly bleeding Captain, and the demented Barnes alone in the windy courtyard.

Steve stepped away from Clint, hands still held in a defensive position, ready to attack anyone who went after Hawkeye. Blood dripped steadily from the bloody wounds on his chest to the ground below, but he failed to notice it. Barnes's words had lit a fire of hope in his heart; perhaps he could hold off Barnes long enough for Stark to find them and mount a rescue. That hope was shattered, however, when Barnes drew a gun from behind his back.

"No!" Steve yelled, lunging forward, adrenaline dulling the pain from his injuries until it was no worse than a paper cut.

"Oh, don't worry, Captain. I'm not going to shoot your friend. I'm going to leave that choice up to you. You see, only two of us are going to walk out of here alive. You must shoot either me or Hawkeye - the choice is up to you. There are no other options."

As he spoke, Barnes tossed Steve the gun. On reflex, the soldier caught it. He stood halfway between his two best friends, heart pounding heavily, mouth dry. He couldn't do this! Suddenly, Clint yelled, "Shoot me, Cap, please! You deserve to start over - all you have to do is knock Bucky out an' he'll be back to himself. Please, Cap!" Despite the fact that his heart was pounding heavily in his chest, the archer had never been more sincere in his life. He had no death wish; what he had instead was a deep desire to see his best friend happy, not really understanding that if Steve shot him, he would never be able to forgive himself and move on.

Steve had no such misunderstandings and shook his head violently. "No!" Then he turned to address Barnes. "You were wrong, Bucky. There's always a third door if you look close enough. I'm taking door number three. Goodbye, Bucky. Clint, I'm so sorry."

As he spoke he lifted the gun and pointed it at his own head. As his finger tightened around the trigger, Clint and Bucky yelled as one, "Steve, no!"

And in almost the same instant that they yelled, a gunshot roared, deafeningly loud.


	9. Shattered

In the nano-second between Clint and Bucky's yell and the roar of the gunshot, a hundred things happened at once. In the instant that Steve put the gun to his own head, something clicked in Barnes's mind, freeing him from Red Skull's mind control. Somehow the Captain's sacrificial move triggered a memory and brought him back to himself.

Hawkeye, even though he knew it was useless, wasn't about to let his best friend take his own life to save his. With a move born of desperation, he yanked desperately at the leather binding his left wrist to the post at the same time that he let loose an incoherent yell. The leather snapped, but with it he felt something inside his wrist pop as well.

Steve, meanwhile, recognized Bucky's yell mingled with Clint's, absorbed what it meant, and lowered the gun so that it was pointing at the ground.

A helicopter dropped out of the sky, Natasha at the controls, and Banner and Thor opened up on the guards that came racing out into the courtyard.

And far above on the parapet, unnoticed by anyone but Bucky, Red Skull drew a gun and fired. On instinct and at the same instant, Bucky jerked up Steve's shield, lying unnoticed at his feet. The bullet pinged off the shield, burned across Steve's forehead, sending him to the ground in an unconscious heap, and plowed through Clint's upper arm just as he jerked his wrist free. Red Skull's second bullet, however, tore through Bucky's abdomen, dropping him to the ground with a cry of agony.

Ignoring the searing agony in his arm and wrist, Hawkeye whipped around, slid a tiny razor from under the arm guard on his right arm, and slashed his right wrist free. He'd heard Bucky's cry and seen Steve go down and realized what it meant, years of training instantly filling in the blanks. He bolted across the fifteen feet separating him from Steve, dropped to his knees beside him, pressed his fingers against his throat, found a steady pulse, and jerked up the gun he'd dropped. Seeing Red Skull taking aim once again from high on the wall above, he took fast aim and triggered the gun six times, grunting with satisfaction to see the horrifying figure crumple from sight behind the wall. Even shooting an unfamiliar gun with his non-dominant hand at a falling figure, his aim had still been deadly accurate. In an instant, he was across the courtyard, kneeling beside Bucky. His right hand pressed hard over the bloody wound while he offered his injured left to Bucky. He grimaced at the pain that shot through his arm but refused to relinquish his hold as the injured man gripped it hard.

"Hang on, Bucky! You're gonna be jus' fine. Jus' hang on!" Clint begged softly, even though his medic's training screamed at him that there wasn't a chance in the world that Bucky would last ten minutes.

Bucky let out a weak chuckle, which turned into a deep cough that sent a trickle of blood from between his lips. "No use...lyin'. I know...I'm dying," he whispered.

Clint couldn't help but admire the man before him and he shot the rest of the team a warning look to stay back as they rushed forward. With understanding nods, they backed away, turning their backs respectfully.

"You...you get Red Skull?" Bucky panted.

Hawkeye's lip curled in a slight smile. "Bullets two through six were a bit of unnecessary overkill on my part," he replied dryly.

Bucky managed a broad grin through the pain. The soldier in him couldn't help but admire such fine marksmanship. "Good man. He...he was...the devil...incarnate." He lay still for a moment, panting. Then he nodded with his chin toward the unconscious captain, who was beginning to stir slightly. "Friends?" he asked softly.

"Best of," Clint replied quietly.

"Good. Take...care of...him?" Bucky panted. His breathing was becoming more labored and his lips were turning blue.

"Bet your life on it," Hawkeye promised grimly.

Bucky smiled. "Thanks. Don't...don't let him...blame himself."

"I won't. Bucky, I'm sorry things turned out like this."

"Butterflies," Bucky mumbled weakly.

"What?" Hawkeye demanded gently. He wondered if Bucky was beginning to slip into delirium as death closed in hard and fast.

"Not...not crazy," Bucky whispered. "A caterpillar has to...die...to become...a butterfly. Red Skull...made me...into an...ugly caterpillar. But Steve...Steve set me...free. This...caterpillar's gonna...gonna die, but the butterfly's...gonna fly free...`cause he cared...enough to let it out."

Clint squeezed Bucky's hand gently, amazed at the simplistic but oddly beautiful description of the dying man. Suddenly Steve was there on the other side of Bucky, one hand grabbing on to his while the other ran through Bucky's hair. "Oh, Bucky," Steve murmured softly, headless of the blood streaming from his own forehead and chest to mingle with the blood from the other two injured men that was staining the snow around them a bright red.

"Steve," Bucky whispered tiredly, a genuine smile lighting his features. For a moment they were alone in the courtyard, their friendship carrying them beyond the pain and into a better time and place.

"I let you die!" Steve choked out brokenly.

"No, Steve...you didn't. I let go."

"What! Bucky, no! You can't take the blame! I failed you!"

"No, Steve, you...didn't. Strong...strong as you...were, you...couldn't pull...me up. If you...you'd gotten hold...of my hand...I would have...pulled you down...with me. I only...only screamed...`cause I was...a human...being who didn't...want to die...any more than...the next man - I'm sorry I did... `cause I know...what it must have...done to you. But I made...a choice, just like...you did...today. It wasn't...your fault, Steve...so quit...quit blaming yourself." Bucky was fading fast, but he was determined to get his point across.

"Bucky..." Steve murmured, unable to say anything more.

"I don't...regret it...for an instant. Only...only thing...I regret is...what Red Skull did...to me. An' now...that choice you made...today...set me...free. Thank you, Steve." With one last squeeze of his best friend's hand, Bucky's eyes slipped closed and he died, a peaceful smile on his face.

Steve knelt there in the blood-stained snow for a long moment, before he whispered brokenly, "No!" Then he looked up and met Hawkeye's compassionate gray eyes. "Clint?" he pleaded softly.

In an instant Clint was around Bucky and kneeling in front of the Captain. Steve let go of Bucky's hand and collapsed into Clint's open arms as his heart shattered into a thousand pieces, leaving the archer to catch the pieces. Within seconds, the rest of the team encircled them, sharing their strength with the Captain.

They knelt there in the snow until Banner realized that not only were the Captain and archer bleeding, Hawkeye rather badly, but that they were also beginning to shiver badly as a deadly combination of cold and shock set in. Without a word, he quietly slipped a sedative into Steve's arm, causing him to slump even more against Clint almost immediately as he lost consciousness. The archer supported him with a soft moan of pain at the added strain on his injured arm, but Thor and Tony quickly eased Steve gently to the ground. Clint glanced up, his eyes clouded with sorrow and pain. "How'd you guys find us?" he demanded.

"We realized when you didn't come back what had happened. Once Bruce came came back to himself, he was able to triangulate to within a few miles were Red Skull was. We would have been here sooner, but we had to fly a pattern over the general area before we found you," Tony replied quietly, with no hint of his usual humor.

Hawkeye nodded tiredly. Uncharacteristically, he slumped against Thor's conveniently placed shoulder and let his eyes close, cradling his injured arm against his chest. He was emotionally and physically drained and he put up no protest when Thor easily scooped him up and carried him to the helicopter the Avengers had appropriated from the German National Guard. He let out a soft moan of pain as fire stabbed through the whip wound on his chest, vaguely hearing Thor murmur a soft apology. Behind them, Bruce and Tony carefully carried Steve to the helicopter before returning for Bucky's body.

Steve remained unconscious throughout the flight, even when Bruce carefully stitched and bandaged his head and chest wounds, declaring that the Captain had a mild to mid-grade concussion and was almost certainly in shock both from blood-loss and mental strain. Tony took turns between checking on Natasha in the cockpit and sitting beside the motionless Captain, murmuring soft words of encouragement that would have done serious damage to his reputation had anyone outside the team heard them and running a cool cloth over his fever-flushed face. Bruce divided his time among caring for Steve and Clint and also cleaning Bucky's body as much as possible.

Hawkeye, meanwhile, had shifted on the floor of the helicopter until he was pressed tight against Thor, craving the warmth that his body generated after having been chilled to the bone for so many hours. Thor promptly wrapped his arm around the archer, pulling him tight against his chest, his enormous bulk dwarfing the shorter man. Hawkeye eventually dozed off with his head pillowed on Thor's shoulder after Bruce stitched and bandaged his arm and wrist, lulled by the gentle rocking of the helicopter, the warmth, and the pain medicine Banner had administered.

By the time they returned to the Avenger's Tower late that night, the entire team was drained, both physically and emotionally. Clint stumbled to his bed under his own power while Thor carried Steve into his room and carefully packed blankets around him before collapsing on the couch in Steve and Clint's apartment. Natasha immediately retreated to her apartment that she shared with Pepper, who fussed over her for a few minutes before allowing the exhausted assassin to collapse in bed. For once Tony was too exhausted to retreat to his lab and fell into a dreamless sleep on the couch in the common room. Even with the protection of the Hulk, Bruce too was drained and after a hot drink, he too sank into oblivion on his bed, not even bothering to undress.


	10. Freed

After sleeping dreamlessly for fourteen hours, Hawkeye finally awoke. Upon registering where he was, he quickly hurried to Steve's room to check on him, only to find the bed empty and unmade, highly unlike the meticulously neat Captain. Thor was no longer asleep on the couch, so Hawkeye hurried to the ladder that led up to what Tony loving referred to as the "Hawk's Nest." When he'd rebuilt the tower, Stark had also added a plexi-glass encased observation tower high over the rest of the building, specifically for Hawkeye to look over the city with a completely unimpeded view. It could only be reached by climbing a ladder surrounded by plexi-glass.

Hawkeye paused at the bottom of the ladder, hesitating for an instant. His arm was cradled in a sling, for when he'd ripped his wrist free, he'd also torn a ligament. Banner had told him it would heal with time and eventually he'd be able to fire his bow again, but the idea of climbing a seventy-five foot ladder one handed seemed rather daunting. Then he gazed upward and saw the Captain's form staring morosely out over the city and knew he'd do it anyway.

Slowly and painfully, Hawkeye climbed the ladder and pushed open the glass trapdoor that led into the tower. Steve was huddled into a corner of the tower, staring sightlessly over the city of New York. "Leave me alone, Clint," he murmured without even turning to see who had come up.

"Nope, sorry, no can do," Clint replied, easing himself down on one of the cushions with a soft sigh of relief. Even though he'd only taken one blow from the whip, his chest was still painful and tight.

"I'm a failure, Clint! How can you possibly want to be around a man who failed so desperately?" Steve bellowed, his anger lashing out at his best friend.

"`scuse me, Cap, but the man I see in front of me is not a failure, but a hero in every since of the word," Hawkeye said bluntly.

"A hero! How can you possibly call me a hero, Clint? I failed Bucky - again!"

"A failure doesn't put a loaded gun to his own head to save his friend and a man whose mind had been warped into a murderer!" Hawkeye was as mad as the Captain for the simple reason that the other man couldn't see the good in himself, and he wasn't about to pull any punches until Steve got the idea.

"Yeah? And a hero doesn't let a man die!"

"A hero does the best he can with what he's got! Did you make Red Skull pull that trigger? Steve, you gotta see that you did absolutely everything in your power to stop Red Skull. You brought Bucky back!"

"Only to watch him die in front of me for the second time, an' this time for good!" Steve answered bitterly.

Hawkeye controlled his rage with a mighty effort. "Listen, Cap! Bucky told me something right before you came to. He told me that he was thankful to you. He said that Red Skull had warped his mind and that you brought him back. Then he told me that a caterpillar has to die to become a butterfly. He told me that Red Skull had made him an ugly, useless caterpillar, but you gave him the chance to morph into a butterfly an' fly free. Steve, if that doesn't make you see how much of a hero you are, then nothing ever will. He died with a smile on his face because you set him free, Steve! Please try to understand," Hawkeye pleaded, his voice low and soft.

Steve finally turned to look Clint in the eyes. He stared at him for a long minute before asking softly, "You...you mean that?"

"Every word," Hawkeye replied gently.

"I don't know how to go on," Steve admitted, his voice cracking. He'd already mourned Bucky's death years ago. It had been difficult but he'd finally been able to move on with the help of Peggy and the rest of his friends. The idea of doing it again, however, was extremely daunting.

"By putting one foot in front of the other. It's not gonna be easy, but it does get a little better each day. You were there for me when Phil died, now let me be there for you...please," Hawkeye whispered.

Hesitantly, Steve stretched out on the cushion, his head an inch from Hawkeye's hip, as a tear made its way unbidden down his face and trickled across his nose to fall to the cushion below. Although he was the first to give support to someone who needed it, he'd received it so rarely in his own life that he didn't know how to accept it for himself. Instantly, Hawkeye's good hand feathered through his hair. Steve tensed at first, then relaxed as the soothing gesture began to calm his shattered nerves. Bending forward, Hawkeye murmured softly in Steve's ear, "Some toxins will not drain except by tears." With a shuddering sigh, Steve's last barrier crumbled and he began to weep unashamedly, his trust in Hawkeye allowing him to show his complete emotions in front of the other man.

They remained that way for almost an hour as Steve cried brokenly. When the tears finally stopped, he realized he did feel marginally better and he began to talk, reminiscing about Bucky. Hawkeye listened, hand resting lightly on Steve's shoulder, until the Captain finally dozed off. With a small smile, knowing the other would heal in time, Hawkeye leaned his head back against the wall and let his eyes slip closed, one hand still resting protectively on the Captain's shoulder. They would face some struggles in the days to come, and perhaps even fights, but Steve would eventually come through a stronger man. Hawkeye knew, for he'd done it himself with the help of the Captain and his team. With a faint smile, he slipped into a comfortable doze.

And overhead, a butterfly hovered unnoticed for a brief moment before silently flying away.


End file.
